


We Could Not Be Heroes ( For Just One Night)

by Aurealis



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Bars and Pubs, Domestic Avengers, Drinking, F/M, Gen, London, Parent Tony Stark, Peter is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 22:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurealis/pseuds/Aurealis
Summary: Avengers go for an after-mission celebration to a bar. In London, England, where drinking age is 18. Peter is 18. All Tony's plans of keeping his kid sober until his 21st birthday fly out the window.





	We Could Not Be Heroes ( For Just One Night)

**Author's Note:**

> I had this little plot bunny because I am honestly baffled by American legislation. Drinking is illegal until you are 21, it seems a little hypocritical to me, like you can buy guns and go to war but drinking is the big no no. So here, because everyone loves drunk Peter and Dad Tony. I had big trouble with how to end this because this could have gone on forever. There was so much to cover but I could only do so much. I was a bit bummed I could not fit CPR into anywhere here but let this be a more lighthearted piece of fiction.

“Cheers!”

 

Nothing tasted better than after mission drinks and chips. The English Pub was relatively quiet, with a pool table, nice background music and a large liquor collection. A perfect place to celebrate: nobody had gotten hurt, no civilian casualties, The Avengers that had taken the London mission only had mild bruises or sprains- yes, life was good at the moment.

 

Peter sipped his soda and could not believe his luck. He was with the Avengers, his friends, an extended family, sitting around a round table like knights, facing his mentor Tony Stark and sharing a plate of fish and chips with Wanda.

 

“Do they even say Cheers here?” The boy asked and Steve shrugged.

 

“That’s a good question. I have not travelled enough. Stark?”

 

The man lowered his beer: “Ask Google.”

 

“You don’t know?” Rhodey raised an eyebrow suspiciously and Tony rolled his eyes. 

 

“I do know but if I say it next kid will ask what they say in Sweden or Ireland or who-knows-where. It’s easier if he just uploads a list to satisfy his thirst.”

 

“He has a point,” Bucky nodded with a chip in his mouth. They had all been victims of Peter’s ADHD induced question vomit which left no one spared and no rock unturned. One of Tony’s most relaxed days had been first aid course because the instructor had been responsible of answering Peter’s inquiries. He had merely sent sympathetic glances at the woman as Peter’s questions started to stray away from the actual topic.

 

Half an hour of little info tidbits later, most of the beer glasses were empty and Peter had finished his soda a long time ago. Another round was ordered, the last ones according to Mr Stark. 

 

“Peter, you want another soda?”

 

Peter smiled but shook his head as Bucky went to the bar.

 

“My, my,” Tony grinned and leaned forward to peer at his foster son. “This must be first time to decline the offer for more sugar.”

 

“What can I say?” Peter shrugged and took another chip. “I am growing up.”

 

Wanda leaned her head on her hand when suddenly her eyes widened and her face started practically beaming.

 

“Peter, the legal age of drinking in Great Britain is 18!”

 

The young genius stared at the woman for a minute as the words processed. Then, like a struck of lightning-

 

“Holy shit! How come I didn’t-“

 

“No,” Tony shook his head immediately.

 

“But Mr Stark-“

 

“No!” The man said with more weight in the words and a stern look in his eyes. “You are underage in the States: that is the only age that matters.”

 

“That’s not true,” Rhodey argued. “When we are here, we are bound by the British Law.”

 

Stark was not yet ready to lose the battle. With a smirk and confidence, he stated: “Very well, I will just tell the bartender not to serve you anything. I am responsible for you.”

 

Peter pouted, a look he had found could sway Tony’s heart in any matter: “That won’t work!” 

 

“Try me!”

 

They rose at the same time and marched to the bar, with straight backs and slammed their hands on the counter at the same time.

 

“My boy here is 18 and we are from the States where he is not yet legal to drink,” Tony started with pleasantness and the bartender, a man of about forty years of age, leaned towards them to hear over the growing ruckus. “So, don’t make him any drinks, even though he asks for them.”

 

The bartender shook his head: “Sorry, no can do.”

 

Peter grinned in excitement while Tony blinked, not used to being denied anything: “What?”

 

“As long as the kid has got ID with him, he is allowed to drink.”

 

Tony hoped Peter had forgotten his ID, after all, he had promised to pay for the kid’s snacks, but Peter pulled out the card from his black phone case and presented it with much bravado.

 

He obviously needed to use much more force. The man took out his wallet and counted the bills he had there, with Peter eyeing him with disbelief.

 

“I’ll pay you, let’s say, a thousand pounds and you won’t give him any drinks.”

 

The man shook his head: “That is against my work ethic.”

 

Now Tony’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head: “I am Tony Stark!”

 

“I know who you are and the rules apply to you too,” the bartender told with a humored expression, used to dealing with rich men who found out world did not revolve around them in his little bar. 

 

For a moment, Peter was certain Tony was going to pop a vein, such an interesting color his face turned.

 

“Fine!” The man finally put away his wallet and turned to his protégé with a raised finger. “But only one drink!”

 

“Peter!” Wanda jumped up and ran to the boy. “Let’s try tequila!”

 

Tony had half a mind to take his words back but he was tired and not feeling up to arguing with the boy.

 

“Sure!” He threw his arms up, irritation lacing his voice. “Try tequila, whisky, even absinthe if you are in the mood but remember this kiddo, I will not be holding your hair if you start throwing up. Wanda can do the honors.”

 

“Yes, sir,” The young woman mock saluted and the youngsters placed their drink orders.

 

Tony returned to the table defeated, pissed off and concerned.

 

“I thought I had it handled well,” He muttered to his friends, taking a large gulp of his beer. “I told Peter not to take a sip of alcohol before he turns 21. Hell, I promised to take him out and pay for the night when he comes of age!”

 

Rhodey started snickering: “Need I remind you of MIT?”

 

Stark glared at his friend: “It’s different, I was a mess emotionally, Peter is so much better. He has a fucking room full of supporting people in his life and he still want to drug himself up!”

 

“But he is growing up,” Steve said with a soft smile as Peter and Wanda came with their drinks, the boy much more lost than the young witch.

 

“Okay, so, how do I do it?” He eyed the piece of lemon and tiny bag of salt.

 

“First you lick your hand,” Wanda showed example, “and pour the salt on it.”

 

“Nasty,” Peter commented with a small grimace. Others started to take out their phones to carve the moment on memory cards. Tony said nothing but still discreetly kept his eyes on the scene.

 

“Order is this: salt, drink, lemon,” Wanda taught.

 

“If it was good tequila, those garnishes would not be needed,” Stark muttered into his glass.

 

The young members pretended not to hear him and on the count of three, they licked their hands, downed the drink and hurried to get the lemon to wash out the bitter taste. 

 

The table rang with laughter at Peter’s horrified expression. Tequila was something he had no comparison to.

 

“This is so going to the group chat,” Bucky chuckled and soon all their phones chimed as a video was added. Peter threw the peels into the empty shot glass and leaned back with a hand over his mouth. Steve frowned.

 

“You aren’t going to be sick, right?”

 

Tony tensed; even though he had said Peter was on his own, he knew the minute the kid started blowing chunks his paternal instincts would take over.

 

“No,” Peter shook his head and grinned. “Just surprised me, that’s all. It’s not like cider.”

 

It was Stark’s turn to frown: “You have had cider?”

 

Boy, he was learning a lot about his kid today.

 

***

 

It took ten minutes for the drink to get into Peter’s blood and after that, the boy was even better company: constantly smiling, laughing and talkative but with much more reasoning. Alcohol was a sedative so it slowed down his thinking closer to that of a regular person. 

 

“Let’s have another one!”

 

Bucky put a hand on the kid’s arm: “Not too fast or you will regret it. Just, take a cocktail or something milder.”

 

Peter turned his eyes to his mentor: “Mr Stark-?”

 

Tony was not going to back out on his word, especially since the kid had on his best puppy dog expression, patent pending. He waved his hand and the boy grinned. Soon, he and Wanda came back with their drinks: Wanda had Cranberry Vodka and Peter had chosen plain Apple Cider.

 

“Is it dry or sweet?”

 

Peter took a sip and shrugged: “I honestly don’t know,” He answered Steve’s question. “You want a taste?”

 

Captain America took the glass and tried it, licking his lips after having a sip: “Sweet, it’s good for your first time.”

 

“I can’t drink sweet drinks anymore,” Rhodey shook his head and Peter cast him a questioning glance. “I started with them, but nowadays even the smell of them makes me nauseous.”

 

Tony nodded, remembering his own adventures with drinking: “Remember the jungle juice those girls on our floor had, the first party of sophomore year? What was in it? Mango juice, strawberries-“

 

“Marshmallows and popsicles-“

 

“Pine apple bits, canned ones-“

 

“Is that even legal?” Wanda stuck out her tongue.

 

“Nothing of that party was legal.”

 

The clock struck eleven. What they had aimed to be a small victory celebration and then head back to their hotel for a night of good sleep before a day of being tourists- half of them had never been to London- was now filled with tipsy people. It was for once that Tony Stark was the most coherent one. Partly because of his alcoholism he needed much more to get to the same state of inebriation as anyone else and he thought at least one of them needed to be sane and responsible.

 

“Alright, team!” He clapped his hand and stood up. “Time to leave.”

 

“After party!” Wanda raised a fist and Peter cheered with an empty glass of cider.

 

“No after-party,” Stark shook his head and took his jacket. It was winter and the weather was chilly. “We are going to the hotel, some of us have bedtime,” He nodded his head at Peter who pouted and whined. Honest to God, whined like a puppy whose tail someone had stepped on.

 

“I am an adult here,” The boy stuck out his lower lip.

 

“And so well you manifest it with your behavior.”

 

Bucky stroked his jaw, thinking: “You know, this could be a great learning opportunity.”

 

Tony stared at the man, warning him with his eyes to choose his words carefully: “What?”

 

“Wanda had a good idea, why not go somewhere. Evening is still young.”

 

“Yes!” Peter jumped up and hugged the man. “This is why I like you!”

 

Bucky merely laughed at the teen’s actions. 

 

“I have not been to a club in years,” Rhodey smiled and looked at his best friend who stared back, betrayal clear in his eyes.

 

“I wonder if they are different here than the States?” Steve started stacking their empty glasses, clearly on board with the idea.

 

Tony breathed in through his nose and out of his mouth.

 

“Okay,” He stated with a tone that faked calmness. “You are adults, I can’t stop you. Peter, let’s go.”

 

The boy’s expression fell: “What?”

 

“We are going back to hotel, “Tony walked around the table and took the boy’s jacket, in the mind to help Peter into it.. “Let those idiots do what they want.”

 

“No!” Peter shrieked, then slapped a hand over his mouth, horrified what sort of sound he could make when in shock and agitated. “I want to go to a club too! I am an adult!”

 

“I am not saying this again-“

 

When verbal arguments don’t work, Peter had learned to take advantage of his adorableness. He clung to his mentor, arms wrapped around his chest, mouth spewing words of adoration and love.

 

“Please, please, please, Tony, it could be really fun. We are here and it’s not late and this could be a really great memory for us. Please, Tony, I won’t ask for anything more for the rest of the year!”

 

Tony raised an eyebrow at the last sentence: “Rest of the year?”

 

Peter nodded, his eyes innocent and sincere. Tony sighed deeply, and ruffled the boy’s hair. Peter had grown much during the time they had been part of each other’s lives but deep down he was still the excitable, charming child. His little boy.

 

“Fine!” He groaned and Peter jumped in excitement. “But everyone pays for their own drinks!”

 

***

 

They chose the closest nightclub that allowed 18- year-olds and did not have too long a line, or as Stark said, PR-line.

 

“What?” Peter turned to the man, hands deep in the pockets of the winter jacket.

 

“It’s a very low way to make your place look more hip and popular than it is,” Tony answered as he eyed the buildings. “This seems okay.”

 

Where they ended up at was a large club with bright strobe lights, overly loud music, floor was shaking with the beat. The place had lots of people few years older than Peter but also men in business attire.

 

“Ah, looks familiar,” Tony grinned.

 

“You’ve been here before?” Steve asked, raising his voice for the man to hear him over the DJ’s latest selection. 

 

“Nope,” Stark shook his head. “But I used to do the same; going to clubs and getting young eager girls to my bed.”

 

They got to the bar, Peter and Wanda ordered Jägerbombs.

 

“Be careful,” Tony could not help saying as Peter took a sip of the drink.

 

“It tastes okay.”

 

The man chuckled: “Why wouldn’t it, it is basically energy drink and Jägermeister mixed together.”

 

“Gives us energy to dance!” Wanda shrieked and pulled the boy with him to the nearly empty floor. Bucky ordered a beer and followed them, he had half a mind to be the link between generation groups. Tony, Steve and Rhodey took their drinks and walked upstairs where DJ played songs the cut-off date of which was in the early 2000s. 

 

“Now this seems much more familiar,” Rhodey pointed out as Heart of Glass started playing. The men took a seat and took in the atmosphere. Overall, the place looked alright: worth the admission fee and customers were pretty and clean. Tony could safely say he had been in much worse dumps.

 

“So,” Steve started. “This kind of lifestyle no longer enhances you?”

 

Tony shook his head: “I had my years. What these places have to offer can’t compete with what I’ve got at home.”

 

He caught the eyes of some young women, one of them was a blond in a short skirt and heels. She winked at him and Tony turned his gaze away.

 

Rhodey noticed the not-so-subtle attempt at flirting and laughed: “Not even those babes?”

 

“Not even slightly,” Tony sipped his beer. “Pepper beats them, no questions asked.”

 

Steve smiled as the brunet’s face softened at the mention of his wife. 

 

“In all the way?”

 

“All the ways,” Tony said with a smirk. “I can’t get enough of her. Literally. You know, some say that when you have children, their sex lives die because the woman’s body changes. It happened to Pepper too but would I ever hold it against her- no.”

 

He glanced at the women but he felt nothing. Sure, they were beautiful, he was not blind, but whereas the old Tony would have beckoned them closer and bedded all three of them by the morning, now he felt no temptation. None. Zero.

 

“So things are still lively in the bedroom?”

 

“Definitely,” Tony said with no hesitation. “Of course we are both busy as hell, with Marian and work and saving the world so there is no set schedule but when we have time, we take all out of it.”

 

Rhodey smiled, happy that his friend had finally found peace after years of mental and physical struggles. Getting Tony diagnosed with Bipolar disorder had been a Godsent, they had Peter to thank for it. Rhodey, Pepper and Happy had had strong suspicions that Tony was not mentally sound, his abnormal tendencies and habits had caused much grief in relationships. It was only after Peter had read about different Mental Disorders in Psychology Class, and talked about his theories with Pepper, the four had started to form a plan to get Tony to understand he might need professional help. Yet, nothing had been done until the man had fallen into a depression, with no outside trigger. No one had gotten through to him, Tony had days in the lab alone, drinking, refusing to talk to anyone until Peter had come in and cried and pleaded for the man to go to a psychiatrist. 

 

The medicine worked wonders although Tony sometimes complained how it slowed thinking but according to the psychiatrist it was a side-effect that might get better as his system adjusted to the drug and he leaned new ways to handle stressors. Overall, mania induced spells where sleep was limited reduced drastically: Tony still invented and spent a lot time at his lab but nowadays, he had clear schedule and motivation to make time for other sections of life. 

 

Suddenly, a whirlwind ran past them.

 

“Hey,” Bucky greeted them as Wanda followed Peter to the dance floor. “Anything interesting happen?”

 

“Mr Stark!” The boy shouted and practically jumped behind his mentor’s chair. Peter wrapped his arms around the man’s neck.

 

“Thank you so much for letting me come here. I love you.”

 

The man chuckled and patted the boy’s hand: “You’re welcome, Pete.”

 

Peter peered at Tony, his eyes slightly glazed: “You’re the best mentor ever.”

 

“Thank you,” Tony could not help his heart swell at the soft words. He did not doubt Peter’s honesty and sincerity although the rational part of his brain argued that the boy would not be eager to say his thoughts had he not liquid courage in his stomach. “I try to remember that when you are puking your guts out.”

 

The boy laughed loudly like the man had told the best joke in the world.

 

“I won’t puke!”

 

The man merely ruffled Peter’s hair.

 

***

The clock struck two. Tony, Steve and Rhodey were now on water fast and patiently waited for the kid’s to be done. 

 

“How many has the kid had?” Rhodey asked and Tony shook his head.

 

“I have no idea anymore, I stopped counting around six.”

 

“You know,” Steve patted his chin ,” It’s is sort of an interesting test. Since Peter is enhanced, it could mean he tolerates alcohol better than others.”

 

Tony looked at the captain with disbelief: “He nearly fell down the stairs just ten minutes ago! I had to practically force him to drink water!”

 

“And yet you have not dragged him home,” Rhodey speak-sung. Tony shrugged.

 

“I figured that he is already drunk, why stop there, let him have fun.”

 

He took a sip of water and grit his teeth: “I just hope I won’t have to pay for any property damage if and when his stomach rebels.”

 

At that moment, Bucky took a seat next to Steve. His face was flushed and eyes wide with either panic or shot.

 

“What happened?” Steve asked from his blood brother who shook his head and shrugged.

 

“I became a third wheel.”

 

Rhodey frowned: “What do you mean?”

 

Bucky took out his phone: “You won’t believe if I tell so-,” He opened the gallery and showed a picture, it was grainy and a bit shaken but the message was clear.

 

“What?!” Tony shrieked and stood up, agitated and eyes blazing. “I am going to kill that kid!”

 

“Tones,” Rhodey grabbed his arm to halt his friend from making drastic decisions.

 

“No, don’t Tones me!” The man tried to rip his arm away from the grip, breathing fast. “I knew this was a bad idea. Peter and Wanda! Why did you leave them alone?” His anger turned to Barnes.

 

Bucky shrunk under the furious gaze and shrugged helplessly: “They are adults, it’s not technically wrong.”

 

“Wrong?” Tony shrieked, voice nearly breaking. “Peter is 18, Wanda is what- 23 or- whatever but the point is, they are teammates!”

 

“So where Nat and Bruce-“ Steve tried to bring logic into the conversation.

 

“And look fucking well that turned out!” Tony grit his teeth and struggled against Rhodey’s hold. “Let go! I need to make sure they won’t start making Baby Avengers.”

 

“Oh, there is no danger of that,” Rhodey said calmly. “I doubt Peter can even get it up in his state.”

 

Tony gaped at his friend with shock, disgust and anger. Then, he slumped back on the seat, with head on his hands. He would not have a panic attack at a night club of all places.

 

“My baby boy,” The man muttered, still not meeting anyone’s eyes. “My little Peter.”

 

Steve smiled with gleam in his eyes: “He is growing up. I always knew he had a crush on her but I did not know it was mutual.”

 

“It is not,” Stark lifted his head. “They are drunk. Wanda cares for Peter, of course, but like a baby brother.”

 

“C’mon,” Rhodey smirked. “Like you have not kissed your friends.”

 

Tony blushed at the reminder but the remark did not ease his concerns. Peter was an emotional person and he was horrified that boy would be overly guilty about his drunk actions. 

 

Then, Wanda walked to them, surprisingly steady for someone who had had at least as much to drink as Peter. She stumbled and had to take support from the back of the bench. She waved Bucky’s arm away, moved wayvard hair away from her eyes and fixed her eyes on Stark.

 

“We should go. Peter threw up in the sink in the ladies bathroom.”

 

Tony slammed down his glass and stood up.

 

“I knew it,” He muttered to himself and maneuvered himself beside the girl :” Where is he now?”

 

“I think he is out,” The redhead answered, eyes glazed and voice mushed, her accent was much more prominent when her frontal lobe was not functioning with full capacity. “He said about needing fresh air.”

 

Tony felt like screaming at the girl: “And you did not follow him? It’s freezing outside!”

 

Wanda had no answers to give, she looked ashamed and muttered something about needing water. Rhodey followed her to the counter while giving death glares to the men who were eyeing the girl with lusty expressions. 

 

Steve followed him as Tony hurried out the club, looked right and left, trying to think where Peter might have gone. They split and Tony ran forward, calling Peter’s name. The kid could not have gotten far, with his wobbly legs and slow reasoning. 

 

Maybe it was a wordless link or instinct honed after years of being responsible for the kid: he saw an alley on the other side of the road. Something called to him, his Peter sense was tingling. 

 

Tony crossed the road, thankful that there were no cars around this part of the city, walked into the crack between buildings and found Peter, curled up on the ground, asleep.

 

“Oh, kid,” He breathed and sank to his knees beside the boy. Peter’s face was wet, from water and tears and there were tiny snowflakes in his hair.

 

“Peter,” Tony shook the kid’s shoulders and patted his face. “Wake up, c’mon, you can’t sleep here.”

 

The boy did not wake up.

 

Crouching lower, Tony pinched the boy’s cheeks and opened his mouth, sweeping in a finger to make sure there was no left over vomit threatening his breathing. Peter’s gag reflex spurted to life and the boy’s eyes opened as his back arched.

 

“Shit!” Tony hurriedly pulled his kid into a sitting position, just in time for Peter to heave and splatter the ground with brown poison. The stench was overwhelming.

 

“Jesus, kid,” The man tried to joke as Peter coughed heavily and leaned against his father figure. “Smells like you tried every drink on the menu, huh?”

 

The boy sniffed: “Stomach hurts.”

 

Tony chuckled and stroked Peter’s hair away from his eyes: “I can only imagine. All those drinks are now having a part of their own.”

 

The boy looked ready to vomit again, his cheeks bulging and throat constricting every two seconds. Tony fished out his phone just as Peter coughed and bent his head down.

 

“Please don’t film this.”

 

The man laughed at the plea that was said in a high voice, like Peter had never gone through puberty.

 

“Aww, kiddo,” He patted the boy’s back, his spirits much higher that Peter was not unconscious and lying on the cold ground. “I am not that cruel. I just sent our location to Steve, he was also looking for you.”

 

“Noo,” Peter whined and Tony was not sure whether the soft cry was targeted towards the Captain America looking for him or coming to witness him in this miserable state.

 

When Steve jogged to the scene, Peter was practically sitting on Tony’s lap, eyes half-closed but his mentor kept him from falling asleep. The blond crouched beside them and placed a hand on Peter’s face.

 

“Is he okay?” 

 

“He will be,” Tony nodded, rubbing Peter’s arm. “Help me get him inside.. Tell others I ordered a cab, it should be here in fifteen minutes.”

 

***

 

When the cab finally came, Tony was just about ready to sue the company. Peter’s lips had a slight blue tinge and the boy was shivering-

 

“Shaking,” Rhodey corrected him as they helped Peter in the car.

 

“We waited for five minutes in this blizzard!” Tony raged and the driver gave no other explanation than traffic and poor conditions. “You know the kid can’t handle cold, not even in his better days.”

 

Tony and Steve had managed to get Peter back inside the club and sat him on a bench, with Tony next to him with an arm around his shoulders. 

 

“Okay, there you go,” The man had said as Steve came with two glasses of water. Tony took one and brought it to Peter’s lips. Kid’s mouth opened and he took a sip before his eyes closed.

 

“Tired,” Peter rested his head on Tony’s shoulder who patted his face with force.

 

“No, Peter, we don’t sleep yet.”

 

“Noo,” The boy whined as Tony forced him to drink more. A bit of water dripped down the corner of his mouth and Tony wiped it away with his sleeve. “I want to sleep.”

 

“Sorry, kiddo,” The man shook his head with sympathy and eyed the security men with wary glances. “But you can’t sleep here because if you fall asleep at a club, security throws you out and then you will be in the snow storm and become a cute little spider icicle.”

 

Peter had managed to drink almost two glasses of water before slapping a hand over his mouth and running to the bathroom, this time men’s and instead of a sink, he threw up in the urinal. 

 

“You know there was an empty toilet just next to you,” Tony muttered, his humor spent after running after the boy. Peter had turned around furiously and nearly thrown up on the man’s shoes, deliberately, before Tony turned him around and guided his head over the toilet seat. 

 

He cast other occupants what he hoped were exasperated but fond smiles as he told how it was his boy’s first night drinking.

 

“Poor lad has no idea about his limits.”

 

Peter had flipped him the bird, a reasonable response the man nodded.

 

The cab ride was spent in silence, they were all dead tired, with ears ringing from the rhythmic music and screams. Tony sat in the back with Peter’s head on his lap. He stroked the boy’s hair away from his forehead, the kid dozing, his breathing too deep for someone who was relaxed and asleep.

 

“Tell me if you start to feel sick again, okay?”

 

Peter moaned something incomprehensible and moved around on his makeshift pillow, Tony’s hands guarding his sleep.

 

Their hotel was luxurious with a great restaurant, gym, pool section and a large game room. Their rooms were in the top floor, overlooking the busy city but away from the sounds and disruptions. 

 

“Alright,” Tony stated to the group as they came to their doors ,”I expect to see you all at breakfast at ten.”

 

Peter, who Stark had his arm around, leaned against his mentor and grimaced at the thought of food. Others nodded, Wanda waved her hand and raised a thumb.

 

At the same time, they opened their doors. Peter was staying in Tony’s suite, an old habit they had yet to break, and the boy walked towards his bedroom.

 

“Go take a shower,” The man patted him on the back and walked towards the small kitchenette. “Do you need help?”

 

“No,” Peter said, voice soft but tight. Tony looked after him, concern decorating the lines on his face.

 

“Call me if you need me, okay?”

 

Peter did not answer, only response was the shower turning on. 

 

Tony took time to change out of his clothes, taking the quickest shower of his life, he hated the smell of drinks and smoke machines and getting ready for bed. In tank top and sweats, he gathered a champagne cooler, some clothes and took water bottles and salty crackers out of the mini fridge. He walked to Peter’s room, expecting to see Peter on the bed but there was nobody. The shower was still on.

 

“Peter,” The man knocked on the door after setting all the items on their intended places. “Did you faint in there?”

 

He got no response.

 

Tony’s heart sank to his stomach and frightening scenarios ran across his mind.

 

“Peter, I’m coming in!” He gave the boy a warning and opened the door. The first sense of his to awaken was sense: the water Peter was running was hot, no surprise after standing outside in the biting cold. The steam had fogged up the mirror and penetrated into Tony’s clothes. He stepped forward and opened the shower door.

 

Peter was sitting, slumped against the wall, shower head raining water over his face. His eyes were closed.

 

“Shit!”

 

Tony practically jumped into the stall and turned off the shower. His eyes wandered over Peter’s unresponsive, naked form for a moment. He had half a mind to call Rhodey, or Pepper, or even Happy, they had much more experience with drunks in embarrassing and dangerous situations.

 

“Okay, kid,” He wrapped his arms around the kid’s chest and dragged him out. The boy had grown up, still slim but no longer scrawny. Tony was strong for his age but the most helpful condition in moving the boy, no matter how grim it was, was that he had much experience helping Peter out of any kind of situation: burning buildings, lakes, seas, under avalanches, you name it, there was a high chance Peter had been through it. He knew right technique; it had been a result of trial and error. 

 

He sat Peter on the black bathroom rug, now completely drenched in water, and laid him down, shielding the back of his head from slamming against hard floor. He laid out towel to preserve the kid’s modesty, maybe not the most dire need but it only took a second.

 

“Peter!” Tony slapped the kid’s face and turned the kid’s head to the side and listened for a minute.

 

“Thank God,” He sent out a prayer as he caught the boy’s peaceful breathing. If there was someone that could drown in a shower, it was Peter, the wonder kid who misfortune and accidents followed like stalkers. “Wake up!” He shook the boy’s shoulders and patted his cheek. “Pete, I’ve got you food and drinks but I will eat them all if you won’t get up!”

 

Tony didn’t know if it was the promise of nourishment or the incessant talking and shaking that got Peter awake. The boy coughed a bit, his gaze wandering across the roof and then fixed on his mentor.

 

“Oh-“ He struggled to place his weight on his elbows. “What?”

 

Tony’s mouth formed a straight line, he was channeling his own father for a moment.

 

“Oh? That is what you say after I find you passed out on the shower floor!” He grasped the boy’s arms and Peter gasped. “I told you to call me if you needed help! Goddammit, Peter, being drunk doesn’t give you an excuse to act like an idiot!”

 

Peter gaze drifted to the shower and his eyes widened.

 

“I’m sorry- I- I got tired and the water was so nice and-“

 

“I don’t care about the excuses,” Tony was still irate but his voice had softened now that Peter was coherent. He stood up and dragged the boy with him before taking the towel and wrapping it around the shivering boy’s shoulders. Peter’s teeth chattered, from cold and dehydration and Tony’s hands started rubbing up and down his arms to enforce the circulation.

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered and leaned his head against Tony’s chest, the place where the arc reactor used to reside. “My head hurts.”

 

The man sighed and the rest of his anger disappeared. How could he resist this miserable young creature? For over forty years of his life, Tony had never cared for a sick person and then Peter came into his life, like a hurricane and uprooted the foundations of his life. 

 

He had a secret soft spot for sick Peter, his instincts told him to wrap the boy into a human burrito and hide him away from anything that might pose the slightest threat. 

 

“Don’t worry, kid,” Tony whispered and kissed his wet curls. “We’ll get you better.”

 

***

 

“Oo, look, sausages!”

 

“Ah, these eggs are to die for!”

 

“You want some croissants, Peter?”

 

The Avengers could not help but laugh as their youngest member turned away from the plates of food, pale as a sheet.

 

Tony chuckled but shook his head: “Please, calm down, he is not a circus animal.”

 

“Aww, c’mon!” Bucky laughed and bit into a toast. “You had all night to make fun of him, now it’s our turn.”

 

“I did not make fun of him. I was very understanding,” Tony responded with contempt and nudged the boy with his shoulder. “Right, Pete?”

 

The boy played with his Jell-O , he provided no answer. His mentor raised an eyebrow: “Nauseous still?”

 

Peter leaned back in the chair and sighed.

 

“No, I’m just not very hungry.”

 

“Yeah, that won’t do,” Tony shook his head and took piece of crispy toast. “Eat this at least.”

 

Peter shook his head, mouth in a tight line.

 

“Peter, it’s the same as when you had that stomach bug. You did not want to eat but felt so much better once you did, remember?”

 

The boy glared at the man: “You gave me ice cream.”

 

“So,” Tony was not fazed by the reminder. “You want ice cream? I can get it for you but you must eat something.”

 

Peter debated the pros and cons for a minute, long enough for Tony to move the piece of toast to his lips, like he did with the glass of water in the night.

 

“This lonely little bread wants to go to your belly,” Tony was rewarded with Peter’s lips tightening as he tried to hide little smile. “And your belly needs new friends.”

 

Yes, feeding Marian had thought him many tricks about tricking stubborn children to getting their nutrients. And Peter was still eager to please his father figure: the boy took a bite of the bread, not particularly enjoying the taste but not hacking it up either. Small victories.

 

“So,” Rhodey smiled as Peter took to eating his breakfast, carefully and slowly to avoid irritating his system. “How about a city tour?”

 

“Can I go to sleep?” Peter asked with a small voice.

 

“No,” Tony shook his head, ignoring the small squeak that came from the kid. “You are coming with us.”

 

“Noo-“

 

“I warned you last night, kid,” The man pointed at him, stern and unyielding. 

 

“But I am sick!”

 

“This is all your doing, kid, do not play the sympathy card. Besides, you own me for that stunt you played last night.”

 

Peter turned deep crimson and hid his face into his hands. Steve looked at the pair that could so easily be mistaken for close relatives.

 

“What is he talking about?”

 

 

A normal tourist, after a day of walking around London, would suffer from aching feet and maybe slight dehydration depending on the month. A teenager with a hungover would have a list of ailments that could take an entire A4 sheet.

 

Tony opened the door to their suite and first thing, Peter walked to his room and dropped on the bed on his stomach.

 

“Please, kill me!” Peter said against the pillows, his voice muted and whiny. Tony merely patted him on the shoulder.

 

“Now, now, you were a true champ.”

 

“I fucking hate you.”

 

“That’s the liquor speaking,” the man began the process of untying the boy’s shoes. 

 

“I’ll never forgive you.”

 

“Hey, I warned you, didn’t I?”

 

“You are a cruel man, Tony Stark,” The boy lifted his head and rolled on his back, his feet now free. “Every muscle in me hurts. I have a migraine, I’m thirsty, I’m tired and it’s all because of you.”

 

The man placed Peter’s shoes on the floor and shrugged nonchalantly: “I’m sorry I don’t feel compassion for you, Peter. You brought this onto yourself.”

 

Peter covered his eyes with his arm: “What happened to that wonderful Tony who came to my rescue on January 14th-“

 

“Hey,” Tony’s remark stopped reminiscing. “That was completely different. You were drugged, every kid in that party was drugged!”

 

“You were so nurturing and caring and-“

 

“Well, of course I was, it was not your fault. You were drinking Pepsi for God’s sake!”

 

They were silent for a moment, Tony working in the bathroom.

 

“I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

 

The man walked back, Peter kept his eyes closed.

 

“Yes, but it is part of being young. I am not angry at you, not anymore.”

 

Peter sighed in relief as a cold compress was placed over his eyes. The bed dipped and soon Tony’s hand was on his shoulder.

 

“Let’s just not make this a habit, okay. I like you so much more when you are sober.”

 

The man’s thumb drew lines into his sweater, the pressure was reassuring, something Peter had grown used to and associated with safety and love.

 

“Well,” the boy shrugged. “At least I did not throw up in the London Eye.”

 

Mr Stark chuckled: “Yeah, Wanda can take all credit for that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are equally appreciated!


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